Friday, January 12


Only moments following my before-sunrise alarm am I greeted by my darling Gil. He is by far the least likely to appreciate the morning out of the three, as I had to confiscate Allie's alarm clock after she was setting it for 6:30 every morning. And Egan can be found standing in his crib as early as 6:30 am calling sweetly to Chloe the cat or shouting "Ahk! Ahk!" and pointing to his water. Somehow Gil musters the strength to pitter-pat to my bedside, ready to whine about one thing or another and why he can't go to school.

This one's a chip off his old mother's block, I tell you.

One morning when I was in about 5th grade, I remember fumbling through the medicine cabinet in dire search of the thermometer because fevers were the only answer to my need for The Price is Right and laying around in my pjs all day; the very thermometer I accidentally shattered across the bathroom floor as I shook one end to get the needle down as I had observed my parents do time after time. The very shattering that led to my own mercury science experiment right there on the cold tile floor as my dad showed me how the balls bounced and melted together as you shoved them around with tweezers. A firsthand lesson on the toxic affects of mercury.

Before it's unfortunate demise at my very hands, that thermometer guaranteed me the fever I needed after running it under hot water long enough, jumping into my bed, and faking my sudden illness made so very obvious by the fever I developed overnight. See? Just look at the thermometer!

My dad came in to check on me and took one look at the thermometer announcing with full authority that I couldn't have a fever of 106 or I'd be dead.


I'll save this story for Gil once he's got his own children.

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